The Belle of the Opera
by The Ballader
Summary: Christine steps out from behind the curtain, wearing her nightgown. "Do you remember what he called you?" I think for a moment, than look to Frederick. I hold him to my ear so he can tell me the answer. "Belle. And he called you Little Lotte." My sister nods. "And he never believed us when we told him about the Angel of Music"
1. Chapter 1

I have accepted my fate as a chorus girl. My voice is too low to sing any of the songs written for the Opera Populaire, and I am too poor of a dancer to be more than ensemble. I know that it isn't that bad, My older sister Christine is a chorus girl. But I want more out of life than just being one of Carlotta's accessories. I shouldn't worry about it now, however, since I am only 14, but I always stretch with Christine and the other dancers anyways. Today, I step further and attempt to imitate the "slave girls" on stage as best as I can while holding my old teddy bear, Frederick, as I stand in the wings during rehearsal for Hannibal. Madame Giry stands next to me, correcting the dancers on the stage and steadying me when I lose my balance. The conductor, monsuir Reyer, abruptly stops the screeching noise that is Carlotta's voice as three men walk onto the stage.

One of them is the owner of the Opera Populaire. The other two don't remain a mystery to me for long. They are introduced as the new managers of the opera house, Monsuires Firmin and Andre. I walk onto the stage and stand next to my sister as the former manager tells us of his departure. Carlotta acts shocked, all though she never liked the old manager and is probably what drove him to retire in the first place. I don't hear most of what the men are saying, mostly because I don't care.

But I do pick up a name. The Vicomte de Chagny. Christine notices too, and asks me quietly, "Do you remember him?" I nod. Christine's best friend Meg asks how we know him. Raoul was Christine's best friend when we were children, and I remember him well, although the last time I saw him I was only 5. Christine points and I see he has walked onto the stage. I wouldn't have recognized him if I didn't know it was him. He talks some too, but now I know I'm not the only one not listening. Christine and Meg are whispering to each other, obviously about the new Patron. I hug Frederick tightly. Raoul excuses himself after what I assume is a speech. The conductor starts the music again and rehearsal continues as the new managers look on.

I move out of the way and join Madame Giry and the new managers standing to one side of the stage. They ask her questions about the ballet and I hold Frederick to my side. The managers than ask about a particular dancer. My sister. Madame Giry introduces Christine Daae. The managers pick up on our last name immediately. "No relation to the famous Swedish violinist?" Madame Giry nods. "His oldest child. This is Beth, his youngest." The managers seem to only than notice my presence. I bow a little. "I am sure you will do great things with our opera." The men laugh, I suppose at my grown up way of speaking. I decide to go back to the room all the chorus girls share, and have almost made it off the stage when Carlotta begins shouting. I back up to where Christine is standing with Meg and we all wait for the drama that will no doubt come. The managers are not sure what Carlotta is on about, which puts them on the same page as everyone else. But they ask her to sing for them and of course, "If my managers command." She has started crying and I am once again sure that she is the reason the previous manager quit.

She begins singing in a voice so harsh I almost cover my ears. I am saved from having to listen to a whole song when a backdrop comes crashing down on the back of her dress. Everyone screams except for Madame Giry, Christine, and I. Meg whispers to us, "He's here! The Phantom of the Opera." I glance at my sister and we seem to speak without speaking. We know what Meg doesn't. Carlotta is yelling again and I am almost relieved when she shouts out "I quit!" I can see the whole chorus sigh with relief. The managers try to stop her, but she stomps off the stage.

The managers are frantic, asking each other desperately who will sing at the Gala. Than Meg speaks up. "Christine Daae can sing it sir." I look up at my sister, and I see Madame Girys slightly open mouth, her eyes on me. And I know that, for a moment, she wanted to reccomend me. Christine and I have been training with a teacher. Christine is a much better singer than I am, although I try my hardest to learn the parts of the music everyone else sings. The managers question Christine, but let her sing in the end.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine is a hit. She receives a standing ovation from the entire crowd, including the new managers. Our father would have been proud. I am. I walk back to her dressing room and wait for her as the performance finishes. Frederick sits on the floor where I left him before the show, wearing a tiny top hat I made for him. I spend a large amount of my time in the costume department, helping the workers make costumes or making dresses for myself with leftover fabric. Frederick has his own wardrobe of suits and costumes I've made. I sit on the floor with him and make him dance while I wait for Christine, singing any words that come to my head. The door opens and Christine steps inside. I run to hug her.

"I was so nervous," She says to me.

"You did fine. You did amazing." She let's go of me and begins taking down her hair. I pick up Frederick and continue talking as she changes clothes.

"Frederick wanted to go, but he couldn't find the right outfit. I told him his top hat was fine, but he insisted on a coat and I don't have time to decide on one for him." Christine laughs at me from behind the screen.

"Did you see Raoul," She asks me. I shake my head.

"But I'm sure he was clapping. Everyone was."

Christine steps out from behind the curtain, wearing her nightgown.

"Do you remember what he called you?" I think for a moment, than look to Frederick. I hold him to my ear so he can tell me the answer.

"Belle. And he called you Little Lotte." My sister nods.

"And he never believed us when we told him about the Angel of Music." Christine smiles and comes to sit in a chair next to me. As she does, the candles in the room all flicker. I hold tight to Frederick. Christine pets my hair and opens her mouth but closes it as she notices something. A red rose laying on her dressing table with a black ribbon around it. She picks it up and examines it before untying the ribbon and reaching for my hair. I turn my back to her and she braids it as I comb through Frederick's short and notted fur with my fingers.

As Christine ties the ribbon in my hair, men start speaking in loud voices outside the door. We both look up as the door opens and Raoul walks in, holding a bunch of flowers. He sits them on the table.

"Little Lotte let her mind wander."

"Raoul," Christine says softly, carefully. I stand up and place Frederick's hat on the table.

"Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls," He grabs Frederick out of my hands and studies him than sits him in Christine's lap. "Or of frocks. Of goblins or books, of shoes or picnics in the attic." Christine smiles.

"As father played his violin!" I chime in happily and grab Frederick, protecting him in my grasp from Raoul.

"And read to us dark stories of the north," Christine sighs.

"But what I love best, Lotte said," Christine and Raoul both look to me and I eagerly continue the poem we all recited as children, to tease Christine.

"Is at night when I am asleep in my bed," I let Frederick fall to my side.

"And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head," my sister whispers. We all sing the last line together.

"The Angel of Music sings songs in my head."

Christine looks down.

"Raoul," She speaks barely in a whisper now, and Raoul kneels in front of her chair. I sit beside him, holding Frederick in my lap. "Father is dead."

"And we have been visited by the Angel of Music." I look sincerely at Raoul, and so does Christine. Our eyes tell the truth, but Raoul laughs and stands.

"No doubt of it. And now, we go to dinner." He says this only Christine, than looks at me and laughs again.

"And we'll bring little Belle, of course." I look down at Frederick, a little sad. Raoul was my closest friend next to Christine, and he acts now as if he doesn't remember me. He always said as a child that he would marry her. He must be remembering that now, instead of me. Christine stands to protest as Raoul walks smiling towards the door. "Get dressed, I'll order my carriage." He is gone. I look to Christine and she looks sadly back at me. I am trying to find something to say, when a booming voice echoes through the room.

"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion! Basking in your glory!" The voice scoffs out these insults. Christine lays a hand on my shoulder and I close my eyes, something I do when I am frightened. I don't keep them shut for long, though. I recognize the voice. Christine does too. She whispers a response, too quiet for me to hear. It may be an argument, but I have to agree with our Angel. Raoul is begging for Christine's attention. As the Angel speaks again, the door rattles and Raoul's voice drifts inside. The loud voices remind me of thunder, one of the few things that scares me. I run to Christine where she has moved to the center of the room and drop Frederick as I throw my arms around her. She is staring at the mirror, and she directs my attention there as well.

A face that does not belong to either of us stares back. The body the face belongs to extends a hand, and than I know. This is our Angel of Music. Christine goes to grab his hand, but draws back. I put one of my hands tightly in Christine's before moving the other to the gloved palm of our Angel.


	3. Chapter 3

The passage is long, dark, and wet. My shoes slide on the ground and I almost fall once. Christine and the Angel of Music hold my hands tighter after this. I keep my eyes forward, always on the head of the mysterious creature leading us through the dark. Christine's hand is shaking around mine, but mine are steady. I trust this strange person, for some strange reason. The long hallway eventually morphs int a steep staircase. Christine walks down first, her bare feet staying steadier on the slippery stone than my shoes.

Our ghost walks beside me, still holding my hand so I don't fall. We walk very slowly behind Christine. At the end of the stairs, a large horse waits. A small smile grows on my face when I see the large animal. I love horses, and I've always wanted to learn to ride one. Our Angel helps Christine onto the horse and seems to forget about me as he leads the horse down another hallway. I follow closely behind, and Christine looks back at me every few seconds. It doesn't take long at all for us to reach a vast lake. The masked man helps Christine off of the horse and into a boat. Than he steps into the boat and holds out a hand. I hold tightly to it as I step cautiously into the floating vessel. We move gently through the water and Christine and I look around curiously. Lots of candles are hanging on walls or in holders on a small strip of land on the sides of the lake.

When the boat reaches the land, Christine steps out and onto the wet sand. I practically crawl out, worried my legs may be shaky and that I might fall. I sit on the wet ground, not caring about how dirty my dress may get. Christine stands next to a large organ as the mysterious "ghost" secures the boat. All the necessities for a whole house are in the basement of the Opera Populaire. It doesn't occur to me until now to wonder how the bed, the organ, the horse, the tables, the boat all ended up down here. I want to know, but I don't ask. I stay quiet as the Phantom of the Opera sits down to play his instrument.


	4. Chapter 4

As the phantom plays, Christine stares at him and I gradually rise from my place in the sand. I make my way to the opposite side of the opera ghost and quickly become mesmerized by the way he is playing. Without realizing, I sit slowly on the bench next to my mysterious angel of music. He seems startled to say the least, and freezes in his playing. Than he stands and grabs my sister lightly by the arm. He starts to lead her towards some bookshelves which I myself can't help but be intrigued by. I love reading, but capturing my attention at the moment is the instrument in front of me. I reach out to touch it and accidentally press down on a few of the keys, causing a very loud, very unpleasant racket.

I quickly drop my hand and look behind me to find Christine looking down and the phantom looking at me, almost curiously. I stand up and hurry over to them, afraid of getting in trouble. I don't seem to be in trouble, however. I look at the books in awe and reach out to touch them but draw my hand back, afraid of causing more trouble. I look over both of the shelves and draw in a breath of excitement when I see my favorite book. I again reach for it and again drop my hand. The opera ghost walks over to me and grabs the book from the high shelf it was on. He dusts it off and presses it into my hands. I look up at him and he lays a hand gently on my head.

During our brief interaction, Christine has wandered back to the organ. She stands, flipping through the music on the stand. The phantom moves his hand to mine and we walk together to Christine. He sits down first, than gestures for me to do the same. He places a gloved hand on the keys but before he can play anything stands again. He steps in front of Christine as she falls, right into his arms. She fell asleep as she fell, tired from the gala and our adventure. Our Angel lays her gently in a giant bed and pulls a blanket over her. He returns to the bench next to me and lays his hands over the keys, not playing them.

"Your sister is sleeping," he whispers to me. I nod but keep my eyes on the keys. He notices. He notices that I am curious so he plays a soft quiet melody that looks easy and complicated at the same time. I have so many questions for this man, who he is, how he got here, why. But for now, I just watch his hands and listen to the music. It is only now I notice how tired I am. I open my mouth to ask the question weighting heaviest on my mind, but before I can, he answers it.

"My name is Erik." I almost smile at him.

"I am Beth, but some people call me Belle." And he nods.

"It means beautiful." And we don't talk anymore. My head falls onto his shoulder as I fall asleep.


End file.
